15.2.05

Prisoner

Two wonderful things have happened to me today. The first surprise came with the postman, who brought with him a package all the way from Montreal in Canada. When I say it was a surprise, I am exaggerating slightly, because I have been expecting it for a while. Still, whether expected or not, it was a nice thing to receive. Let me explain. A couple of months ago, an exceptionally talented Luso-Canadian photographer, Antonio Pierre de Ameida, dedicated a photograph to me. I was really taken aback: firstly because it is quite a tribute to receive recognition from such an exceptionally gifted photographer; and secondly because the photograph that he dedicated to me is an outstandingly good example of reportage photography (which is my preferred type of photography). I loved the photo and the dedication so much that I asked Antonio for a print, which I have now received, and which will shortly be hanging on my photo wall in the living-room. Thank you very much Antonio. The second surprise came when I was browsing through my favourite Pbase photographers' latest updates. I got to Gilles Navet's page - another wonderfully talented photographer - and discovered that he has dedicated his daily photograph to me; moreover, he has even emulated 'my style' (I didn't think I had such a thing!!!). This is an awesome tribute, and I am lost for words. To have photographs dedicated to me by photographers as talented as Antonio Pierre de Almeida and Gilles Navet is some tribute indeed, for in my opinion, they are up there amongst the best on Pbase. I am completely overawed by it all. Thank you. After all this excitement, I decided that I wanted to get out the house for a walk. I have been a prisoner in here since I came back from Portugal a fortnight ago. The neural inhibitors don't seem to be working, but I had to get out despite the pain. I thought that I would head up to the supermarket to buy a frame for the print Antonio sent me. I didn't try to walk this time, but took the bus. In itself, this got me down, because by the time I made it to the bus stop, which is only 50 yards from my front door, I knew that there was no way I would be able to walk any further. I feel like a prisoner with an indeterminate sentence hanging over my head. I just wish that this pain would go away and let me lead a normal life again.